Ghosts of the Past
by Aizea
Summary: Takes place after Serenity. Picks up as the crew struggles to continue flying after Miranda and the chaos which ensued as a result of their transmission. I'd appreciate your input and reviews, thanks for reading.
1. Nothing

All right, let's see how this goes as my first attempt at fanfic, internet posting and stuff of that sort so please bear with me. I guess this is where I insert a standard nondisclosure phrase along the lines of -The characters of Firefly and its universe do not belong to me, nor do I have any delusions that they do. They spring forth from the mind of Joss Whedon as Athena from the brow of Zeus and in no way what-so-ever do I have the right to call them my own. I Bow before the magnificence of Joss, he is the master and I am but a lowly unicellular life form which pales in comparison, blah, blah blah..- Ok, now seeing as this is my first story please share your thoughts with me, I want to know people read this and (hopefully) love it (or at least don't get violently ill and lose their ability to form complete sentences from it). Well, hope to the wind, here it is and enjoy!

A string of Chinese profanity gracefully floated off of the tip of Captain Reynolds's tongue. Crudely translated it remarked on the fornicating capabilities and proclivities of one scum-faced-badger-breasted-tit-sucking hominid which was, coincidently, at that moment monopolizing the captain's attention. A rough translation, but one which conveyed the general attitude of the captain towards a certain lowlife whom which he was dealing with, although much of the subtle wit and irony, as well as the colorful sub context, is lost in translation. While Malcolm Reynolds had no reason to have inside information on the mammary glands of this particular well dressed cockney Badger that he was conversing with on the com-line, accuracy wasn't Mal's main concern at the moment. It was simply a heartfelt description of not only the current situation, but of the entire crew's history with Badger and his dealings.

"Naw; cap'in Reynolds, I'd "ave thought you'd be a bit mo' appreciative of me for all of my immensely valuable business ventures of which I'v been plent'y agreeable and fair in my dealings. Therefore I find your outburst a bit unset'ling as to my further cooperation with the likes of you and your crew."

"Cooperative? Fair and agreeable? This from the same spineless slug that sends us after a load of Alliance marked goods and refused to ante up payment for our services rendered? The same manipulating bastard who set us up with a contact and when things went south brought his goons in to take over my ship and cover his hairy badger ass?"

Slightly affronted yet amused, (Note to readers, Hi Readers: ) Imagine this dialogue in the most awesome cockney accent ever. It will just turn out better for everyone if I don't type it, doubt that I could, and you just visualize (audiolize?) it yourself. Thanks and enjoy. Now back to your irregularly scheduled fanfic.) "Well maybe you wouldn't be interested in entertaining a certain proposition I have recently become aware of, no? Of course not, silly of me to ask since surely you have become dear and fast friends with your precious Alliance after that infamous broadcast slamming their entire administration. Naw, nobody would be looking for a little recomp after all the irritation you've caused. Hell I bet you have job offers pouring down your hatch because everyone would want to throw their lot in with a marked crew of Alliance crossing renegades. Now then, if I happened to tickle your curiosity as to what I'm offering, I'd be glad to see you planetside, like usual." A click as the screen went black and Serenity was once again alone with her crew.

"Goramm weasel, skuzzy leech like himself, betcha nothing gets him quite so giddy as an opportunity to kick honest thieves like ourselves when they're down."

"Captain, any reason we are even givin' him the time of day?" asked Zoe.

"Because we don't have much of a choice here now do we? Of all our contacts, associates and places of refugee the Alliance goes and wipes out they leave that miserable piece of _gos se_. If they ain't dead, then they act as though we are. Sure we may have some nice shiny new parts and Serenity has been patched up good as used, but how does anyone expect us to get the funds to keep her that way? Call up the good ol' Alliance and ask for some job recommendations and references? No we need coin, good paying at that, now more than ever. I am sure all of you are well aware of that little fact that we are not quite the same cozy crew as before. We're short a pilot, we have no funds and have no other associates willing to deal with us other than that blood sucking leech. Who is probably just waiting to sell us out to the Alliance, who undoubtedly are imperially pissed at us now. If we had to be careful not to run adrift of them before we have to be even doubly more so now. Everybody knows the saying 'hell hath no fury like an evil despotic monopoly scorned'. No we have no other choice, we deal with that lowly piece of _gos se,_ we get paid and we hopefully live to deal another day. River, lets finish entering atmo and land. The sooner this is started the sooner we will be finished and clear of Badger and his filthy little claws"

Silence in the bridge as Zoe, Mal and Jayne stare at the deceptively fragile teen sitting at the controls, eyes closed and sitting stock still despite the growing need to avoid becoming several greasy spots on the rapidly approaching planet below.

"Uhh, Captain to River, is there a problem? River? RIV.."

"There is always a problem. People may say it is nothing but how can nothing be really nothing? There is always something that caused the initial question so a response in the negatory towards the initial question is either a…"

"River, pull yourself back into this control room in this galaxy girl, right now. The only problem I see is the very large and solid landscape of Persephone, which I may add is very much something, coming up exceedingly fast and we being not in the least slowing down. So maybe in a few seconds you will have your answer and we can all find out how something can very quickly become nothing. So would you start landing sequence and we..."

"No"

"What …? No? You are not crashing this ship girl, would somebody..."

"No. Even if Serenity hits terra at the standard gravitational acceleration rate of 9.8 meters per second there would be something left, not necessarily something of salvageable means, but something never the less. Based on the law of conservation of mass, matter can neither be created nor destroyed, therefore the atoms, quarks, charms and other quantum elements of which all matter contains and which in turn composes Serenity and her crew will remain. Something will always remain, consequently nothing is never noth..."

Growling, Jayne stalked towards River sitting at the controls, "River you gorram nutter. I didn't stick with this crew passing through Reaver space not once, but twice, just to end up gittin' splattered all over Persephone by a space crazed loony. Girl you..."

Hands dancing over control panels, flipping switches and flickering lights as River's hands moved at lighting speed, suddenly causing engines to rotate, flare, and Serenity lurched in response to her commands. Sending Jayne, who was not seated or steadied by a convenient open pipe, flying gracelessly through the air and into a pile of assorted tools, parts and boxes. After an additional surge of the engines, Serenity settled to the ground in a landing much more gracefully than Jayne's.

"River what the hell's gotten into you… again…still… girl? Just when we thought you were straightening out in the mental department and all you go and…"

"Nothing. Nothing, Captain, nothing at all." River replied as she spun out of the chain and flowed out of the room, leaving Zoe and Mal standing about as Jayne dragged himself towards a more upright position. Muttering characteristically some rather unseemly and vulgar choice phrases, "Never thought I'd say it but I'm rather missin' Wash's pilotin' skills" Jayne growled.

"Yeah, we all do, no question about it" Mal said as Zoe picked up a lone dinosaur thrown from the consol to the floor during the landing. "We all do."


	2. Piloting

Leaving Jayne to gather some assemblance of dignity, as well as undoubtedly his personal armory, Zoe and Mal headed towards the cargo bay to prepare to meet Badger and his crew while continuing the conversation they had started in the bridge.

"I just don't know what gets into that girl sometimes, actually a lot of times. Sure Simon was truthful when he said she takes to just about any task easy as a duck to water. And hell she does know her way around a consol and can calculate a course better than anyone else here, but there is more to piloting than that. Wash was schooled as a pilot, and there are just some things River can't learn from theory or calculations. She just doesn't understand parts of piloting that require a certain touch which can't be calculated or quantified like some figure rattling around her scrambled genius of a brain. Wash now; he had that special touch, that certain ability to intuitively feel Serenity. To be able to feel her energy and flow. To make her faster and stronger than just the sum of her parts, to…"

"Sir, you seem to be not entirely aware that I am familiar with those very same extraordinary skills of my husband which you have mentioned, although somehow I doubt you have them experienced in quite the same capacity as myself but your point is what Captain?" Zoe queried.

Clearing his throat he continued awkwardly, "As I was saying perhaps we need to rethink the current piloting situation. We have River filling in, admirably may I add since she no doubt reads how I feel and could kill me with her mind while I sleep, but I think we need to be looking to signing on a real pilot, as in one with a background in aviation, instead of a psychic psycho. Or would that be a psycho psychic? Hmm..." Looking around the corridor cautiously Mal replied to no physical being in particular, "Of course I only meant that in the best way River, you knew that though, right?"

"Sir," Zoe began in a critical tone.

"No now hear me out, we aren't replacing Wash, as though we ever could, but when we are this far out skimming the edge we can't afford a mistake which a seasoned pilot could know to avoid."

"Sir, somehow bringing on a new hand whose loyalty and skills are untried right when we are trying to avoid Alliance retaliation doesn't seem to be the wisest course."

"Well, when do you suggest it would be wise? Does it seem to you that ever in the foreseeable future we won't be in the middle of one crisis or the other? I'd thought you of all people would understand that the most."

"Yes sir, that I do but it still doesn't seem like the time is right."

"The time will be right when I say it is. We need a pilot who knows their trade and that is what we are going to get. You aren't the only person who lost Wash. Still, Serenity needs a pilot whether you are ready for a new one or not. Right now we have a job to see to; otherwise we can't afford the crew we have already, much less attract a skilled pilot who has both eyes and any sense of depth perception. We need this job and I need you aboard this with me too Zoe."

"Right sir, then to the job as always".

"To the job indeed, let's see just what that goramm Badger has in mind for us this time around" Mal cringed imagining exactly what depths of hell this job would drive them to. With Badger it was always a surprise, and never was it pleasant.


	3. Job Perk Number 12, Cute Doctors

"Kaylee", Mal shouted into the engine room "make sure everything is secure and prepped for a quick take off."

"Expecting the need for another speedy get away Captain?" She replied cheerfully as ever.

"With Badger you never know what orbit he's swinging in from so we ought to be prepared for anything and we need you keeping Serenity ready for everything."

"Aww Cap'in you know you can count on me."

"Yeah, Kaylee, you never have given me any reason to fret," a movement out of the corner of his eye caused Mal to turn and watch Jayne pass down the corridor. "Now on the other hand," he muttered, turning to follow the mercenary. Mal wondered what violent inclination Jayne had in mind at the moment. That particular hard sloping angle to Jayne's shoulders generally meant a confrontation, of which Jayne only solved in one way: Violence.

In the kitchen Simon and River we talking softly amongst themselves

"No, no more medications, no more please. They make me all down to left, right to up and blue hazy, anyways I told you I can control it better now."

"River you can't just stop your treatments, without the medications who knows what mental state you would be left in, and all of the progress you have made will be for…"

"Who knows exactly, with all your medical training you still haven't a clue what I have become and you won't listen either."

"But River, you know I only have your best interests in mind, as your doctor I really think…"

"I don't want a doctor Simon, I want my brother. I just want you to be my big brother again, how is that so hard for you to understand. You don't know what is going on inside my head so quit trying to tell me what it is I should do. It's inside my head and I can feel things working, changing, and growing in there so why can't you just listen for a change?"

"River you know I would never force you to do something against your will, you have already been subjected to more than enough of that already. But I am your big brother, even when I'm your doctor and nothing can change that. Nothing. Ever."

Forehead to forehead, the two siblings could never be mistaken as anything besides utterly devoted to each other. Few people could observe that scene and not be touched by the exchange. In turn, few people would be willing to intrude on that very personal and intimate moment between brother and sister. Jayne Cobb was one of those few people. Barging into the kitchen and yanking a chair back from the table, Jayne grabbed Simon by the back of his collar. Flinging the doctor heedlessly into the chair, "Now doc, I don't want you tellin' me how to do my job, cuz I know you couldn't last till' lunch if you dared strap on my holsters, but I know ruttin' well that that sister of yours is a something you be needin' seeing to. She's plum loonier than a heat addled penguin and if you can't keep her still and quiet well then I can guarantee …"

"Jayne, I wouldn't be makin a point of threatening sweet little girls, especially one which has already laid you as well as dozens of Reavers out cold. She is crew and unless you want to revisit that conversation we had after Ariel just let me know. Seeing as I have a rather busy schedule, I would want to fit that discussion in so I can get an application circulating for your soon-to-be-open position as rapidly as possible."

"Mal that is unfair, you damn well saw what that girl pulled back there and if you…"

"Jayne get yourself out of my sight and help Zoe finish prepping. We have Badger to meet about that possible job and I expect you to be ready for the task."

"Goramn pile of _shiong mao niao_, ain't worth wastin' my time on, stinkin…" he muttered trudging out the door, but not before shooting another venomous look backwards towards River. "You watch yourself girl, you right better be scared."

"No, but you should be." She retorted with another one of her characteristically eerie predictions.

"OUT!" shouted Mal as Jayne turned to escape the skull penetrating stare of River and his passage through the ship was marked by a string of Chinese verbs all linked into an impressive suggestion of nearly physical impossibilities and improbable partnerships in which the individuals in the kitchen should partake in.

"Captain Reynolds, my apologizes for any inconvenience and concern that my sister has caused but…"

"Doc, just hear me out, we all love your sis dearly and she really has pitched in to pull her weight with us short some crew, but she still is a tad… unstable at times."

"I am going to ignore that last statement you made regarding my sister only because I know how hard these past few months have been on you, but it is important that you understand just how critically abused River has been. You cannot seriously expect her to instantly turn into a sweet little pigtailed and innocent girl now just because she doesn't have that atrocious secret of Miranda boring through her brain. The Alliance made her what she is and there is no changing that."

"I reckon you are right about that Doctor but I can't be expected to let her endanger my ship and the crew with another antic like todays. I need promises that River will remain the River we all adore and not go all Alliance wacky on us or all metaphysically suicidal."

"Captain Reynolds, there is no way one can definitively predict what course her condition…"

"You have my assurances that you will have no undue disorder or turmoil from me." River interrupted, starring at Mal with deep genuine eyes.

"Aw hell, I always have had a soft spot for crazy teenage weapons of mass destruction." Mal smiled, ruffling Rivers head affectionately. "I will hold you to that promise my little albatross, now you go ape shit homicidal towards me or crew, well 'cept maybe Jayne seeing as he probably had it commin' to him, and end up killing me mark my words, I will make you regret it little one."

"I'm sure you would Captain." River beamed at Mal and twirled out of the kitchen with feet dancing and hair spinning as she hummed a happy tune.

"Doctor, I want you and your sister to keep to the ship while we are out dealing with Badger. I also want you on the ready should any medical situations arise. See to it that your sister keeps herself out of the way. I've asked Inara to keep an eye on River while we go about business and make sure nobody catches wind of you two on board. While I doubt the Alliance has any questions as to your two's whereabouts and the company you keep, I don't need Badger knowing anymore about my crew than he does already."

"I agree completely Captain Reynolds, just call ahead on the comlink, I will be ready for whatever medical treatment you require."

"Well thanks for the boost of confidence Doc."

"Not that I am hoping for anything to happen, I'm just basing it on past precedents which generally involves some sort of trauma and pain as well as my services"

"Yeah, well that is just one of the non-monetary perks of my job." He said with a mercurial smirk coming to his face. "You get to be worked on by cute doctors all the time."

Simon sighed and shook his head bewilderedly as Mal left, laughing wickedly, "That man has the damndest sense of humor."


	4. Girl Talk

After Mal, Zoe and Jayne had gone to meet Badger, the remaining four shipmates were left to their own devices to pass the time until the hopeful return of their fellow comrades.

Tiny delicate feet pitter-pattering, up stairs and down corridors as River travels the quiet confines of the ship, searching for something that she herself is not quite sure what it is she is looking for. Her feet finally bring her to the control room and stand her behind the pilot's seat. The empty pilot's seat. Even though she has assumed duties as pilot, River knows she isn't Serenity's pilot, and never will be. She isn't unnerved by the fact that no matter how long she flies the ship or works in the control room, it will always be "Wash's Control Room". There are still plastic representations of Mesozoic flora and fauna littering the room. And while someone inevitably steps on one, or is constantly working around them, the thought has never crossed anyone's mind to considering boxing them up and moving them out of the way so that life can continue unhindered by memories of things of the past. And River would know. No, that was not what drew her to this room. Something inside of her was looking for something else and hadn't a course in mind, therefore the control room; a place for direction and guidance. That was what River hunted. As pilot she had a momentary sense of direction, at least physical, as she plotted courses and navigation coordinates but the direction she sought was of an intangible kind. Not having found what they were seeking, delicate feet twirled about, leading their owner from the control room, past the engine room from which murmured low voices lost in conversation, and on to yet another unknown destination on the ship.

"I just don't know what goes through her head some days. She is aware of how disjointed she is with reality, sometimes, but I don't know if she any control of it at all or if she has simply given in to her delusions."

"Oh Simon, River wouldn't give up and do that, she just seems…well lost some days. I think maybe we all are." Kaylee said, resting her head on Simon's shoulder. Sitting together in her hammock, listening to the machinery hum in the engine room, Kaylee never felt more at peace. "It's just that there has been so much change lately that it has taken a bit of adjusting to. Not that I am complaining now that I have a cute, fanciful doctor to call my own." She said playfully pulling Simon closer.

"Hmm, about that Kaylee, you may have to take that up with the Captain, he was just saying something today about the perks of having a cute doctor aboard to tend to him." Adding lightheartedly "I'm afraid he may be planning to steal me away from you."

"I'm in shock I would never of thought…"

"I know I am a bit surprised myself I had always thought the Captain and Inara would finally both come to their senses but I guess my charming ways have…"

"Not that part, I was talking about you showing a sense of humor you silly _ben dan_. Anyways I doubt the Captain would ever dare to come between me and my man. He already lost in one war, I don't think he would want to lose another." She said tussling Simon's hair. After several moments of quiet Kaylee added, "I just wish Captain and Inara would just unbend their pride to see that what they are fighting is the same thing each other wants. It took so long for you to finally see me that I would hate for them to never take a chance to have the same."

Ten tiny, dexterous toes, leading the way with their teenage passenger trailing after. Finally stopped in front of a door. A door. With just a push and a _whoosh, _an obstacle was removed and the toes led on, marveling at the change from cold metal grating and hard unyielding ground to soft luscious tapestries. Embracing the toes and comforting the feet they continued forward until…

"Mal, haven't you left by now and how many times do I have to tell you that my shuttle is…Oh, River it's you. Excuse me but it is just such a habit that when someone enters unexpectedly that I assume it must be Mal."

River walked farther into the shuttle only to pause and then abruptly lay down flat on her stomach, spreading arms and legs to resemble a bear rug. With her eyes closed and her body wiggling deeper into the rug fibers, Inara was quite at a loss as to what was going on.

"Uhh, River dear, is there something I can help you with?"

"Comforting, soft yet durable and accommodating, a rug for a room for a person of the same. But who is to help the helper? Who is to give comfort to the one who is the comfort giver?

"River honey, where is your dear brother Simon?

"Simon is gone, Kaylee too, only Simlee left."

"Why don't you come over here and sit down next to me so we can talk River honey" Inara suggested, patting the bed reassuringly to coax the fey little girl up off of the floor. With a natural grace that companions-in-training labored years to attain and which young initiates would envy, River rose, flowing over the floor to settle softly on the corner of the bed farthest from Inara.

"We haven't talked much lately and I find that a shame. Even though I was off of Serenity for what seems like a lifetime I also feel as though I never left in the first place. Yet in the time since I have been back so much has changed. Strange how those incongruities exist and yet that doesn't bother me, I suppose I have changed." Pensively drifting off, Inara looked towards River, "It appears you have changed as well my dear. Imagine, you a pilot, it only seems like yesterday we met you arising screaming out of that cryo box, why…"

"No need to equivocate Inara, we both know where you are heading with this conversation, or at least I do, so please be direct. I do not need to be coddled and prodded towards a dramatic climax like you with your patrons. Respect me for what I am, not what I was, or in that respect may be."

Such a sudden and unsettling change as River turned from a vulnerable lost little girl to a sharp, mature sounding woman, as though the two personalities were unconnected within the same body.

"And who are you River?"

"Well that is the point of this conversation. Here we are, let's converse."

"Very well, I suppose I should ask, what is it is that you think you are? Who is River Tam? A fugitive? A sister? A passenger? Crew? A pilot? A psychic? A psycho? What is it that you really are River, can you answer me that?"

"Fish don't notice the water around them even though everyone else does, likewise with me. Humans don't respect the air around them until they are gasping for it in the vacuum of the Black. How can I know what I am unless I step outside of myself? Skin and bones, what is the weight of that against a soul? A feather on a scale weighing one's self, but how much does a feather weigh in the weightlessness which is the Black? The Black it weighs goodness not by feather or scale, but.."

Abruptly sliding closer, Inara grabbed River by her shoulders,

"River stop that right this instant. Why do you keep doing this sweetie? You make perfect sense but then you slide into this illogical nonsense. We can't help you if you don't tell us what you need."

"It is only nonsense if you don't know what it means." River replied as though that statement answered everything as she rose and strode towards the door. "Maybe you should be the one to revise your perception of who you are in relation to others, not just I."

Long after she left, Inara sat silently on the bed with River's last words echoing through her head along with visions of the crew. River and Simon, Kaylee and Zoe, Jayne, Mal. _Shipmate, Confidante, Companion, Lover?_


	5. Of Goons and Guns

Weaving their way through a seething mass of human flesh, Mal, Zoe and Jayne were on constant guard. On outward appearances they were simply some common folk trying to get where they were going and who were instead getting increasingly irritated by the large progression of people that were hurrying by and jostling into them on their way through Eavesdown Docks. In reality they were on high alert, their hands never straying far from a readily accessible weapon of either bullet or blade. Besides the increased risk of running into a less than amiable friend from a previous job, there was always the threat of your run of the mill cutthroats and pickpockets which gravitated towards the roughest and seediest parts of the docks. Naturally, the bulking mass of Jayne did wonders to persuade individuals of that caliber that there were other marks easier than them.

"Well here we are, wallowing among the unwashed hordes of humanity. This is just one of the many things which I have no regrets about leaving behind when we are out in the Black." Mal remarked melodramatically, arms sweeping about theatrically in an attempt to take in all of the local color, and odor, which encompassed the Docks.

"Hell, I wouldn't mind wallowing among some whores about now, even if they are unwashed." Jayne said noticing several of the nearby women who were hawking their services. Eyeing them up and down before his eyes settled comfortable right around their upper mid-region, Jayne's attention was focused on only one thing, well actually a couple of things in particular, but none of which was the task at hand.

"Jayne," Zoe barked curtly, smacking him on his heavily muscled bicep. Distracted from his daydream of lovely things he hoped would be soon forthcoming, Jayne wondered just what they hell was wrong with making this business trip a bit more…pleasurable.

"What? Ain't nuthin' wrong 'bout considering my options since I'm needin' a bit of female familiarity about now. No reason to go hittin' a man over it. Damn right inconsiderate, that's what it is." Jayne muttered

"Well somehow I don't think Vera'd take too kindly to the idea of sharing her man." Mal said "and I think she's one lady you wouldn't want to rile up."

"Well why not? She's sleek, sexy, responds to the slightest touch and right deadly. She'd be more than welcome to join in if I had somethin' to say about the matter. More the merrier." Jayne mumbled.

Zoe and Mal caught each other's eye. Volumes were exchanged in just that one glance, both agreeing with the other completely. No more was needed to be said about that topic, ever.

The crowd of average, mostly law abiding citizens thinned out as they drew closer to their target. Additionally, the increase in armed presence surrounding Badger's center of operations was a dead giveaway that they had reached their destination, and hopefully their next business transaction. Although if you'd ask the Captain he would've explained how the pervasive stench exuding from Badger and his lair should have been more than enough of an indicator as to its location even from the outer rings.

Finally, arriving at the entrance to Badger's den of thieves they were confronted by a barricade of muscled goons and gun barrels. No, actually a barricade of Lackeys, Jayne concluded to himself. And he would know. Goons, Lackeys, Mercs, Hired Muscle and Hired Guns as well as all of the other job positions which involved the ability to look tough, hold weapons of all manner of deadly and not to ask questions, of which either Jayne was employed as, killed, or knew somebody who fit that category; of all of those positions Lackeys were his least favorite. Mercs were the top of the food chain and the Hired Muscle and Guns had their place as well. The Goons were more permanent and, if possible, a shred more loyal and had longer term employment than Hired Muscle and Hired Guns, although they were not as reliable or valuable on an important job. But the Lackey was the scum of scum in the kill-or-don't-get-paid hierarchy of employment. Any ol' rough and tough wanna-be or muscled thug with a gun could become a Lackey. With practically no attachment to anything other than coin, lacking any form of finesse and hardly any pride in a job, the Lackey was the lowliest, least skilled or reliable echelon, therefore the cheapest and easiest to come by. Scanning Badger's minions, Jayne picked out only the lone Goon or two among a mass of Lackeys. _Cheap hwoon dahn,_ Jayne thought._ Appearances and intimidation. Just a big show of less-than-second-rate force, but nothing of skill. _Still, even a Lackey could hit what they were aiming for eventually and could make their situation a mite touchy should the bullets start to fly. Flexing muscles, Jayne felt the familiar comforting rub of his holsters and bandoliers as he assayed the reassuring weight of his guns as they lay slung across his body. Far in the back of his mind he was considering a comforting rub of another type he planned to have shortly, but at the moment Jayne was all business as the head Goon parted the sea of Lackeys to meet them.

"You, Malcolm Reynolds" the head Goon stated with a snarled, forearm muscles bulging and his hands firmly clasped around a very large and intimidating firearm, he motioned them forward with a gruff wave.

In Jayne's professional opinion the Goon was laying on the whole masculine testosterone overdose a little thick, and seriously, a gun THAT big. Obviously the Goon had some major inadequacy issues he was overcompensating for, but Jayne didn't well give a damn what size pecker the guy had since they were being escorted through Badger's warren towards the impeccably dressed mustelidae himself.

Snaking thorough the various corridors and hallways in Badger's complex, they were uncomfortably aware of exactly how much of a warren the complex had indeed become. Concerned about their ability to find their way out themselves should somehow the meeting end with Badger's crew hunting them down with deadly projectiles, Mal was trying to absorb all of their twists and turns but quickly realized he had no clue what direction they had even come from initially since the grimy debris strewn halls and walls all appeared the same. Looking to Zoe she returned his questioning glance with a reassuring, yet barely perceptible nod. All was under control; Zoe had it covered as always. Mal gazed towards Jayne to see him scowling at Badger's men with a look that bordered between disgust and utter disregard for the men. With Zoe handling the escape route and Jayne the armed men, Mal was left free to handle the trickiest component, Badger. _This ought to be all manner of fun. Well let's let the good times roll, _Mal thought, _as long as it's not **our** heads doin' the rolling. Hell, maybe Badger will surprise us, well good surprise not the usual deadly and bleeding surprise, and this just might end up kinda shiny…nahh, now that would be the day._


	6. And Behind Door Number 1

"Cap'ain Reynolds, fancy seein' you 'ere. Seems you 'ave a notion of tak'n me up on my business offer I told you abo't." Badger remarked, lounging behind his desk as Mal, Zoe and Jayne were ushered into the room

"Well isn't it just our favorite profit sucking middleman, what's the cut today, 45? 55? Or are you taking pity on me and my rag tag crew and generously allowing us a full 65 percent of our payload?"

"Actually Captain Reynolds, since you asked, I 'ad planned on you keepin' the full balance of whatever you and my client may decide on as a _fair_ repayment of your services. All that I, the 'onest and ever 'umble businessman, will deign to keep in exchange for my help facilitatin' the meeting of you two is the finder's fee 'e was of'ring for getting 'im in contact with you and your crew. I tho'ght based on the long standing relationship between the two of us Cap'ain Reynolds that this wouldn't be a problem now, would it?"

A nearly imperceptible change passed through the room causing Mal, River and Jayne to take closer stock of their location in relation to all of Badger's crew and exactly how many rounds they could pop into his flunkies before the three of them were permanently redecorating Badger's compound as gory spackling all over the walls.

"And who would this associate be that would pay just to _meet_ me, much less contract us for a job." Mal inquired as he cautiously worked his fingertips towards his hip, not waiting to be the last to draw should, no _when_, this meeting headed south.

"Oh, this fellow is quite determined to meet not just you Cap'ain Reynolds, but your 'ole crew too, and I mean _'ole_ crew too if ya' get me drift Cap'ain." Badger said grinning ear to ear as Mal furiously tried to figure out how they were gonna get out of this goramn mess, which was only getting worse by the minute.

"Joansen, bring in out distinguished and most 'onorable guest to meet our dear Cap'ain Reynolds." Badger commanded, sending a flunky from the main room to retrieve the mystery employer from the room he was waiting in.

The atmosphere in the room was tense to say the least, as guns were loosely trained on the three trapped in the middle of the room. Mal could see Jayne struggling with the urge to whip out several guns, all of them a' blazing, while Zoe was calculating how much farther she had to sidesaddle before she could get a jump on the Lackey closest to her. Before anyone could execute any sort of hasty action though, Joansen returned, and he wasn't along. Parading behind him was someone; someone dressed crisply, clean and in the ever-so-rare pressed outfit which reeked of only one thing in the 'verse. Alliance.

Not a moment of hesitation as those images had barely been processed before Mal dropped, drawing his gun and rolling for cover, all the while squeezing off shots. As if it was a well trained drill, Jayne and Zoe were on the move simultaneously as well, not even a heartbeat behind Mal. With speed and supple grace, Zoe had incapacitated one minion and stolen the gun from another, just as the beleaguered Lackeys began to return fire. Jayne rained down a hail of bullets upon their assailants as he fought to overturn a table for cover. Successfully achieving his goal of providing cover, as well as increasing the ventilation in several unlucky Lackey's bodies who were consequently moaning on the floor and bleeding profusely, Jayne dove behind the table and was joined shortly thereafter by Zoe and Mal as return fire poured down around them.

"Badger if this is your idea of a great surprise party I think you should see about hiring a party service next time around. If there ever is a next time you double crossing _tah mah duh hwoon dahn_. Or would this qualify as a triple or quadruple crossing, not just the standard double crossing" Mal mused. A few more shots hit the table, chipping away even more of their flimsy cover as Mal mulled his options over in his head. There wasn't much mulling to be done seeing as their options were rather on the sparse side. Peaking around the table edge Mal knocked off several more shots along with a couple of Lackeys. "What do you think Badger, now with you selling us out like this, how many times does this make that you screwed us over? Have you been keeping track, I haven't that close of a count?" The only answer Mal received was the redirection of all gunfire towards his location. "Jayne, grenade, and cover our backs. Zoe…"

"Got it Captain, just follow my lead. Down the hall, 70 meters turn left then a sharp right and…" she paused ever so briefly to lean around and shoot out the lights, showering shards of glass and sparking filaments onto unfortunate Lackeys. "then we double back down the adjacent hallway, there were two doorways we can block up, slow 'em down a bit then…"

"Captain Malcolm Reynolds," a strange and oddly composed voice called out from the gun smoke, "I really must insist you cease and desist in this pointless firefight. I assure you that my intentions for contacting you and your crew are entirely due to reasons of my own and not of my former employers."

"Yeah, ya' 'ear that? So quit blowing 'oles in my compound and my men or I'll 'ave to take the repair costs out of your cut for the next twenty years." Badger whined petulantly.

Curious, Mal reached over to stop Jayne from pulling the pin ever so eagerly from his ready grenade, causing the mercenary's look of childlike glee to fade to disappointment. With the cessation of return fire, Mal ventured a peek around their impromptu foxhole. Through the gloom Mal could make out the various Lackeys either behind cover or prostrate on the floor, groaning and spilling vital fluids all over the floor. Lighting fixtures still sputtered sporadically and squeaked as they swung slowly to a stop from the ceiling. Cheap, alcohol based beverages puddled on the floor, mingling with blood, as it flowed free from a shattered teapot. Amidst all of the chaos, one lone figure rose, dusting itself off of the accumulated grunge created by the havoc and the frantic dash for cover. After reasserting some sense of order to its person the figure spoke, "Captain Malcolm Reynolds if I may introduce myself I am Doctor Hayden Wyman, formerly head of the Alliance's Terrafoming research team. I requested that Mr. Badger arrange a meeting between your crew and I to discuss an arrangement that I am offering. If you would be so kind as to consider my plans and objectives as to the possibility of hiring your crew and your ship I think…"

"Talk is cheap Dr. Straightlaces." Mal countered steely.

"So it may be but rest assured, I am not."

The two men stared at each other, both evaluating the other.

"Well I suppose talkin' ain't much to ask, seeing as we all are all here anyways."

"Excellent, I had hoped you would agree to at least listening to my proposition. Mr. Badger would you so kindly see to setting up a suitable meeting room, I simply cannot work in a room of this condition, and neither should Captain Reynolds. And with some measure of haste please, there is much we must discuss if two men such as ourselves are to both come to a suitable agreement." Wyman instructed, sparing the Captain an awkward grin, of which Mal could only assume was meant to be reassuring but instead managed to send a wave of repulsion down his spine.

No matter how much this Alliance flunky, pardon _former_ Alliance flunky, as though that was much better; however much the former Alliance flunky ridiculed Badger and played the sophisticated customer and friendly businessman, there had to be some damn shiny payoff and one hell of a good reasoning to make Mal seriously consider taking whatever this job is he's offering. They may need the coin but still, even Mal had his limits. No way in all the worlds in the 'verse would Mal ever take up as Cruise Captain for Alliance pensioners, even if they do despise the same slimy middlemen leeching off of society as he did. A thief does have to have his standards.

Whatever the proposition Mal wanted to be on the ready, motioning to Zoe and Jayne the two fell in behind Mal as he trailed after Dr. Wyman. Leaving the shambles of Badger's room for entertaining esteemed guests behind as they entered another, only slightly less bullet riddled room which Badger had his goons frantically arrange, hopefully to suit Dr. Wyman's taste.

The day was already looking shiny indeed. First, a great way to start any day with a nice nearly suicidal landing by the one and only crazy human weapon known as River, then the always fun meeting with Badger which, not surprisingly did lead to a shoot out, and now a proposal from a former Alliance cast-off researcher. This day was just getting better and better. Mal could hardly stand to see what was next.


	7. A Backstory of Woe and Tedium

"Please, sit" Dr. Wyman instructed, motioning towards the shoddy yet mostly serviceable chairs pulled up hastily around a wobbly table. Mal and Zoe simply exchanged glances with each other as Jayne let out a derisive sneer.

"Sorry Doc, but we just aren't ones to be much for taking up the Alliance on offers of courtesy. Generally in my line of work and in dealings with Alliance getting comfy just makes it too easy to be getting dead."

"Captain Reynolds, like I told you before, I am not here on behalf of the Alliance. And even if I were here to haul you back limp and hog tied to them you would be there already. We would not be standing around this dusty table in a filthy little warren which smells like piss, posturing like animals over territory. My business with you is entirely concerned with the skills and abilities of your crew and your ship. I could care less what the Alliance wishes to do with you as a result of your Miranda transmission, although the transmission is partially the reason I choose to contact you and your crew Captain Reynolds, for the job I propose. This is not a quick and simple smuggling drop off I am interested in arranging with you and the details are likely to take awhile to work out so please, just sit, it will make things easier for the all of us." Wyman implored.

The man was a hard one to read. Physically he looked old and worn, like someone who very well deserved to be released from duty with the Alliance. Yet his voice, his mannerisms, and something about his eyes when he spoke made Mal question his original assessment of the man as an Alliance retire. In fact the more Mal looked at him the more he thought that the man probably was around the same age as Mal, most likely younger, although he obviously must have seen his share of trouble in his life to make him look as old and battered as he was.

Mal conceded to the request and pulled back a chair. Making quite a ceremony of sitting down he was sure to pull his jacket aside with a flourish to display his readily accessible gun as he settled to the chair. Jayne made a move towards another chair yet Zoe shot him a glance, stilling his forward momentum, and causing Jayne to regain his position standing on guard next to her at Mal's back.

"Most excellent Captain Reynolds, shall I begin with my proposal.?" A glance from Mal filled with utter disgust was all the motivation Wyman needed to get on with it already. "Very well then, I suppose I should start by elaborating on myself. As I already told you, I was the head Researcher on Alliance's Terrraforming Team until a grisly event which occurred recently caused superiors to decide otherwise. I had held that position for the last 9 years after attaining the position at an unusually early age of 26. I don't know how familiar you are with the scientific community but to obtain a position that prominent and prestigious at such an age is unheard of. Yet I did, partially because my family has always placed great emphasis on success and hard work, but mostly because I have always been enthralled by research and the search for truth.

Eventually my interest gravitated towards examining the unusual anomalies which arise as a result of terraforming, such as Bowden's Malady, and working to either eliminate those conditions or to prevent them from ever developing. Even as head researcher I still maintained my love for field work and while most head researchers of their department become beurocratic desk jockeys, I demanded to continue my projects in field work personally. At this point I had assembled a top notch team including myself, several senior and junior researchers and a handful of field and lab assistants. Of the senior field researchers included on my team was one in particular who was nearly as driven and brilliant as myself. Many commented on how I better watch myself or else be replaced by my charismatic rival, Adrian Wyman. My brother.

Despite their assumption that our relationship was tumultuous as a result of my superiority, in fact we were incredibly close and Adrian was not one to be bitter of my good fortune. His passion was not so much the search for truth but of adventure and exploration. He loved piloting the research vessels and reveled in nothing more than combining his love of machines with his scientific knowledge to improve upon the technology we used for research. In fact I remember one time…"

A groan of utter boredom and monotony escaped Jayne's lips as he shifted his weight, breaking off Dr. Wyman's trip down memory lane.

"I would have to agree with Jayne as well." Mal concurred. "I was told something about a job offer and all I've heard so far is a tale of tedium and your credentials. Now how's about the job?"

"Yes naturally, but as I was getting to the most relevant details. My team and I were stationed on a small moon recently terraformed but sparsely populated in an attempt to determine unusual conditions which may arise among the colonists and how to address them. On the day of the infamous occurrence I had jettisoned off world to place vital equipment in the moon's orbital path which are used to record changes in land and atmospheric conditions and their composition. When I returned I was greeted by a scene of such carnage and destruction of which everything I had ever heard of paled in comparison. Bodies, body parts, fragments of things, people, or so I thought I'm not sure, everywhere. The research facility, the town, everything, everyone destroyed. Nothing was left, just me."

"Reavers." Jayne hissed, suddenly at full attention.

"Yes, Reavers. I searched to see if anybody else survived. After awhile I just searched for anyone to bury but even that was hard seeing as…seeing as…the bodies…" The doctor shuddered as his mind traveled back to the grisly scene.

"That's all right, we follow." Mal offered, recalling his crew's own experiences with Reavers.

"Well afterwards I sent out distress calls and waited for someone to pick me up, since my little craft which was all that was left not stolen or hacked to pieces was not fit for interplanetary travel. Pick me up someone did, eventually, after sitting along for weeks with carnage and death all around me, and they took me back to the core. I gave my report to the Scientific Council which was passed on to Parliament and they dismissed me. Said that I was foolish to travel so far from the core planets in the first place, that it was my fault to waste my time on backwater asteroids. Then they suggested I take a leave of absence in order to compose myself and perhaps they would get back to me at a later date.

That was it, I was finished and alone. My research, my team, my brother. All gone, or so I thought. It was months later when I got an unexpected blip on the interface communications system I had salvaged from my research facilities. Somehow the unit had been turned on and it was getting a signal from one of the small spacecrafts which had been stationed at the research facility right before the attack. I was elated, the impossible had happened and somebody else had managed to escape and was alive. I had been driving myself sick with survivor's guilt but finally, I wasn't the only one to escape.

It amazed me that somebody must have noticed the incoming Reavers and made it off planet without being pursued but I wasn't questioning the details, I had found a miracle. I was unable to contact anybody in return through the transmission but I was ecstatic when biofeedback showed that the person in closest proximity to the controls in the ship's cockpit was none other than my brother. But my hopes were quickly soured, and this is the reason I am here to hire you and your crew Captain Reynolds." Dr. Wyman said, his eyes blazing into Mal with fiery fervor Mal had not seen outside of combat in many years, "I need you to help me find my brother, track him down and kill him."


	8. Family Reunions Gotta Suck

"Wait now just a minute. Back it up to where you want to hire us to kill your brother who, you just now discovered, isn't dead and in fact wasn't killed by Reavers. I just want to be sure we are all on the same page." Mal sputtered confused.

"Actually Captain Reynolds, there is a bit of a misunderstanding. I am not hiring you and your crew to kill him, I will. All I need is you to take me aboard your ship, fly out towards Miranda and once there I can track his signal and then after we find him I will kill him myself. I just need your crew's special experiences regarding Miranda and the surrounding space to…

"Whoa, whoa. Still back it up some more again. Why is it that you need to kill your brother who according to you yourself, the two of you both got along well with each other? Plus, what makes you so sure he'll be out Miranda-ways if you hadn't actually received any message from your brother's transmission? Third, there ain't no goramm way I'm putting my crew in danger again to fly back to Miranda. You said you chose my ship in part because of the Miranda transmission, then you should well be aware of what we had to endure to get to and back from that planet, we lost some mighty important things and I don't plan to risk anymore of my crew on a suicide run just for some petty little Alliance brat feud between you and your brother so you may as well just take your fancy Alliance ass and…"

"He's a Reaver. My brother Adrian, he's a Reaver." With those words Doctor Wyman collapsed, sinking down the back of his chair as all of his spirit just drained from his body. "My brother didn't escape, he was captured and…and…made into a Reaver. I figure he'll be somewhere around Miranda, most likely flying with the other ships in Reaver space." The room was dead quiet.

"I started digging deeper into the signal transmitting on that wavelength from the research facility's ship trying to get a fix on it's location, or to contact my brother and to talk to him. I couldn't get any response, so I started working backwards through old transmissions that had been recorded in the system before my unit had been turned on and I had been alerted to the signal in the first place. What I found was horrendous. Apparently the town was hit first and razed to the ground. The facility had little warning to prepare before a Reaver raiding party was on them as well. My brother tried to gather the team into the only ship which was space worthy to fly them out of there but ultimately failed. Adrian started to send a transmission to me warning me not to come back to the settlement and relayed what was happening just as the Reavers overtook the ship. The transmission was still on when the Reavers boarded them and started the slaughter. It captured everything."

Dr Wyman stopped abruptly, his throat constricting with emotion and chocking himself up. After a moment as he struggled to regain composure he continued. "It first started with the screams and then the laughter and sounds of which no human should be able to make, all of which continued on and on for what seemed like forever. When the screaming stopped it was a blessing because I thought at least one person was beyond the realm of caring what was happening to their bodies. But it always began again. Then I heard my brother's voice. I don't know what the Reavers were doing but it sounded as though they had been looking for him in particular out of all of the entire team. Then once they found him the Reavers really started in on their victims. I heard then beating him, goading him, forcing him to do things to his fellow teammates and to watch as they did things to them as well. I heard his pleas and cries mingling with the heart wrenching shrieks and moans of the victims. And the laughter and hoots of delight which pierced the cries of agony, those were the worst. They didn't do everything within range of the transmitter and for that I can only pray for thanks because I don't know how I could stand to listen to the torture and death of my entire team as they forced my brother to do God knows what to each and every one of them. The little bit I did hear was more than I could stomach and ever wish to hear in my life. This continued for I have no idea how long, time seemed to have no power in that realm, but eventually it did become quiet and there was no activity on the ship for the transmitter to pick up.

Only after I was nearly convinced that the transmission had been interrupted did someone finally show up on the sensors. And I say someone loosely. What had once been my fun-loving and kindhearted brother reappeared on the sensors, but no longer as the person I had known my entire life. Instead the brainwaves which the biosensors registered were completely incongruous with ones ever exhibited by Adrian, even under the most stressful events. Serotonin levels and other neurotransmitters were all off the charts and completely unchecked. That person is no longer my brother anymore and I don't need the feedback from my machines to tell me his brain is different. I heard people with whom he worked with and who were friends his friends howling in pain at his hands and I heard his laughter slice through their cries of agony…I need no more proof than that." Pausing, the Doctor looked up from the table to Mal, his eyes glittering with tears.

"That is why I need you to help me find him and kill him. He's not my brother anymore. He's a monster and I cannot allow whatever broken shard of humanity which may yet be trapped within that body to have to endure residing in that living hell. I cannot allow the parasite which has overtaken my brother's body to continue out of respect for who my brother once was. I hope you can understand that and are willing to help a desperate man such as myself."

Looking into his eyes, Mal felt like he was falling into the deepest pit of despair of which a man could sub-come to before going completely insane. Chances are that Wyman had already passed that level but Mal understood that sort of insanity and comprehended what the Doctor had to do so that he could be at peace with his brother.

"Money is not a problem either Captain, you do this one job and I assure you that money would not be an issue for you and your crew for some time to come. Rations, supplies, weapons, parts, hell even a new ship, I can fund it all. I just need you and your crew to get me there and I can do the rest. I can pay for it all; money is just an object to me, not like I would be needing it afterwards…"

"No that's all right. I'm quite content with Serenity, wouldn't trade her in for any ship or amount of cash in the 'verse…"

"Please Captain I implore you, just consider my offer, I have to…"

"Now I didn't say no, I just was saying I didn't need a new ship. Then again I wasn't saying yes either." Mal wasn't sure why he was offering what he was but somehow he just felt it was what he needed to do, even for someone ex-Alliance. "Now you follow me back to my ship. We talk it over with my whole crew. We all hafta be in accordance about this fool's errand and they all get a say in this and they all know every detail about what you are proposing we undertake. Any of my crew have any objection whatsoever and the job's off. You leave, no fuss, no arguing and we wish you the best of luck for both you and your brother but you go no farther with us. Find some other Captain, some other ship, just promise that once we're done with you that you leave me and mine alone. _Dong ma?_"

"Of course Captain Reynolds." Doctor Wyman said with a hint of hope in his voice. "I do not wish to burden your crew with my misfortune as well, especially if anyone has any objections as to my presence or proposal. I am very well aware of the events surrounding your crew and the previous incident involving Miranda and I extend my condolences to your crew. Especially to you Mrs. Washburne, this must have been hardest on you most of all. I am sorry that my offer must cause you to revisit and confront your painful memories yet once again. " Wyman said inclining his head in Zoe's direction.

Zoe didn't move an inch or even bat an eyelash. Not a twitch, yet to Mal Zoe appeared as though she had just been split clean through by cannon fire. With her face devoid of any emotion and her arms taunt and stiff at her sides she offered a curt nod in acknowledgement of his words. And that's all they were. Words. Nothing which meant anything of value to Zoe now. As if she didn't have to confront those demons each and every waking moment, in each and every breath just to keep on living without the one man she loved till death and beyond. _Oh why Wash? Why you? You should be the one still sitting here playing with dinosaurs and your damn shadow puppets. Of all people, why you?_

"Jayne, send a call ahead to Serenity." Mal commanded, "Tell everyone we're coming back. A party of four. I want them all to meet in the kitchen. Time for a crew meeting, there are a few things needing to be discussed. Just try to keep the details to a minimum; I think it would be best for everyone hear it all at the same time." A terse grunt from the ever loquacious Merc, details to the minimum, not a problem there.

"Zoe?" Mal questioned, pulling her aside, "You up for this? Just say it and this job goes no farther."

"No Captain, not a problem at all" she replied, her face still devoid of any emotion. "To the job, like always."


	9. Open Sesame?

Finally arriving back at Serenity they stood outside of her giant doors waiting for them to open and to board the ship. Normally the wait was never long, just another benefit of having a precognizant pilot who knew exactly when they arrived, but today it was as though Serenity herself knew exactly what Dr Wyman's presence signaled and she was loath to put him any closer to her crew. As soon as the four arrived outside of the giant doors in question, Mal heard the characteristic hum of machinery engaging to open the massive gates, yet a harsh grating noise quickly halted any progress towards those doors actually opening.

"Kaylee," Mal bellowed to the com-link. "Why in all the moons in the 'verse aint this door opening. Seems to be makin' me a mite grumpy and you don't want a grumpy Captain."

"Got me Cap'tain, I checked all the circuits and lathered down the gears just this week." She replied, not sounding in the least bit worried that her sweet ol' Captain was stuck right on the other side of those noncompliant doors, her mind was totally focused on her baby and figuring out just what was wrong with her. The sound of rummaging through panels, metal clanging and tools clattering as Kaylee sorted through circuitry and machinery trying to pinpoint the offending part came through loud and clear via the com-link to those held at bay by the cargo bay doors.

"I don't see nothin' wrong Cap'ain, it's like she just don't _want _to open. I can't figure out why she…"

"Keeps out those who would lead to hurt those close, dear, special to her, Doors. To keep out the ends which justify the means with no thought to what that involves. To themselves or others. A shell on the beach, dried and brittle. The animal which once lived in it plucked from its home by a gull. Can you hear the polite knocking of the gull? Nothing left of life, just an empty husk, abandoned yet the outer shell still remains. It wants in" River whispered yet her voice carried through the com-link to reach the outside world.

"That goramm girl's at it again, ruttin' crazy's all she is. Mal I tell you she's more trouble than she's worth and I …"

"Not now Jayne, seems we have a bit more of a problem than a teenage girl with the urge to do some rambling on no particular tangent which our measly mortal minds can't get a grasp around. Now how's about we do something constructive about getting these doors open."

A shrug as Jayne reached around to deftly present his one of his dearest processions. "Grenade?"

"Grenade! _Choo fay wuh suh leh._ Is that all you ever think about? Grenades and guns?" Mal spat with indignant fury over the though of using that on Serenity.

"Well not quite the only thing Mal. I do have my softer side with the need for something a lil' lacey and racy with a bit of… _trim_… as often as possible. The grin which spread across Jayne's face succinctly answered Mal's question.

"_Jing-tzang mei yong-duh_," Mal muttered shaking his head, "Zoe,"

"Yes Sir?"

"What brilliant plan does my first mate have in a situation such as this? And please, don't say grenades."

"Well, me not being one for such elaborate plans as Jayne's, I suggest a back door, as in the hatch."

"You suggest the hatch now do you? As though we can just waltz right around and…Oh, the hatch! I knew I kept you around for something Zoe."

"Thank you sir" Zoe added dryly.

"Let's get on with it then, I ain't paying you two just to stand around and look useless." Mal hollered.

"Ya' ain't paying me for much about anything right now" grumbled Jayne as he passed Mal.

"After you Dr. Wyman, wouldn't want you behind me now, all the better to stab me from, right?" Mal said, stepping aside with a stilted bow as Wyman followed Jayne and Zoe towards the hatch.

"My offer does include the monetary funds capable of purchasing a fine new ship, one which isn't quite so…temperamental. Should you and your crew be so inclined to agree to my proposition." Dr. Wyman offered, pausing next to the Captain.

"Nope, my position still stands that Serenity and I are not ones to part ways with each other any time soon. Anybody being one to reconsider this job you're offering I'd say your name should be tops of the list. Tangling with a Reaver and trying to take 'em out, especially one that was your brother, that isn't something you can count on making it back from all in one piece, or in any likelihood at all."

Staring back towards civilization in the direction from which they came, Dr Wyman answered pensively. "That is a fact I am perfectly aware of Captain Reynolds, and I am counting on precisely that."


	10. Just Spit It Out Would Yah?

Hello There Dear and Avid Readers (Please be Dear and Avid Readers). Since you are reading this it means I have updated. Wow, amazing, yeah nobody start calling the Pope to report a miracle. Anyways I hope to have a few more installations to add before the next semester rips my soul away again, till then let me know if you appreciate, enjoy, hate, (preferably Love) my writing and I will try to keep them coming. Thanks.

Back to Our Terribly Irregular Fanfic...

* * *

"Captain Reynolds, good to see you back in the same state in which you left us in." Simon said meeting Mal as he emerged from the hatch into a corridor shortly after the rest of his team. 

"We were a little concerned when it was Jayne calling back. Thought perhaps you and Zoe ran into some trouble and were incapacitated and left under the care of the merc's mercy."

"Not today, although I have no illusions as to just how long it would take before Jayne made his grab for power and turn Serenity into a flying brothel, but not today at least. Is everyone in the kitchen for our little crew meeting already?" Mal asked as they headed towards the kitchen themselves.

"As far as I'm aware, Inara was in the kitchen preparing tea for everyone and Zoe and Jayne should be there as well with your new guest by now. May I ask what his destination is or purpose in being here is?"  
"You don't wanna know Doc, you'll find out soon enough, trust me on that. I only want to tell this whole mess to everyone once and that will be more than enough for me. What about the rest of the crew?"

"Well Kaylee was still trying to figure out what is wrong with the doors and River disappeared off somewhere on the ship after the hatch was opened. I am sure she will show up somewhere soon enough though."

"Yeah, that is kinda what I'm worried about." Turning a corner they nearly collided with Kaylee.

"Captain! Good to see you back." She positively bubbled.

"No thanks to those goramn doors. What's much the purpose of doors if we can't well use them in our many frequent and speedy getaways?"

"Not a problem Captain, doors open just fine. Soon as you started coming down the hatch she popped right open. Not so much as a squeak. Guess she was just feeling cantankerous."

"Well I don't want to be seein' it happening again Kaylee, _dong ma_?"

"Then you just better take that up with Serenity, seeing as there was nothing I could do about it." She finished just as they arrived in the kitchen. Already seated around the table were Zoe and Jayne. Inara was passing out delicate cups of her brewed concoction, which Jayne accepted begrudgingly upon learning it contained no alcoholic component. Dr Wyman was standing off to a corner clutching his steaming cup and looking rather uncomfortable. That was when Mal saw the reason why; River.

Sitting on a stool with her knees drawn up to her chest it looked as though she was staring clean through Dr. Wyman right to his shriveled, tortured remnant of a soul and Mal could see her mouth moving. Saying who knows what to someone unacquainted with River's peculiarities. Striding towards them Mal came in just at…

" Remus suckles not on the milk of wolves but drinks deep of the hate and rage of a thousand odd lives. To reach him Romulus will have to jump more than a trench or wall. No coronet of metal awaits Romulus after this deed either, instead both shall be crowned by the roots of the land and worms writhing among the soil as you rule as co-emperors of the dark and silence, which is the fate of all mortal men, although yours sooner than most."

'Well isn't this just a cozy conversation. Looks like you already met River our little pilot huh, Dr Wyman?" Mal asked the man who looked as though he had just met a barefooted ghost with eyes and hair of darkness sitting on the stool next to him.

"This…is River? _The_ River the entire Alliance would have given anything to have back?" He stammered.

"Yep, this would be the one. Couldn't well imagine the 'verse could handle another quite like her. Though she may not seem like much right about now, but give her something sharp and deadly, or even just her feet and hands and…"

"No, not that. She knows me. Well, not met me but…" He shook his head turning to Mal. "Did you hear what she said? Did you tell the rest of your crew my purpose in contacting you?"

"I have not told my crew anything regarding you yet. That's the point of my little crew meetin' and while I heard what she said; hearing and knowing are two different things with River here. We don't right follow everything our little albatross says but most the time she makes plenty o' sense."

"No, she makes more than perfect enough sense if you can follow. I understand a little, but only because I have some knowledge of Earth-That-Was mythology as a result of my lifetime of study." Turning back towards River, "How do you know about me and my brother Miss Tam? And about Earth-That-Was?"

"I breathe. I live. I am." River answered staring at the shaken Doctor who was now leaning wearily against a counter.

"There is no scientific explanation…it's impossible…she…can't…"

Mal had quite enough of the crazies for the day and thought it high time to get this business settled, one way or the other. Ordering Wyman to sit before he fell and River to get along over to her brother Mal was rewarded by quiet compliance by the former and a razz-berry from the later as she bounded off the stool impishly to settle in a open chair next to Simon at the table.

Looking at his crew gathered around the table Mal wondered what right he had to even consider, much less suggest to them, taking this job. Eyes staring back at him, Mal saw one pair, dark and deadly. Filled with not just strength but also pain, looking straight back at him saying, _Just spit it out Sir. Words aren't gonna' break us._ A deep breath, then Mal began to introduce Dr. Wyman and to detail the Doctor's proposition as his quiet crew sat gathered around the table.


	11. Cash Advance Required

"…and so I'm leaving it up to you all to decide whether we're going to take this job or not. We all have to be in accordance to agree to take this job. No way I'm making anybody go back there after all the blood, sweat and tears we have been through. So what's everybody's thoughts?" Mal finished. A moment of complete silence as the nature of exactly what the offer entailed sunk in. Flying back to Miranda. Hunting down Reavers and killing one in particular before a whole swarm of nasties could kill them first. Yeah, easy as lying. Laying dead that is. The room erupted into noise and exclamations.

"You can't seriously be entertaining this suicidal thought Mal? Are you completely out of your mind?" Inara shrieked.

"Captain, what about Wash? Wash…he…we… can't…"Kaylee begged, turning to look at Zoe who sat calm and composed among a sea of turmoil.

"Ain't no goramm ruttin' way…"

"_nee mun doh bee-jway!"_ Mal interjected cutting Jayne off and silencing the rest of the room.

"Excuse me Captain Reynolds, but if I may? Could I address the crew for my own sake so I can at least feel as though I tried my best to help my brother?" Dr. Wyman implored.

"Have your words Doc, I think the only good you'll get out of it is some exercise for your lungs but have a go at it." Mal offered.

Gathering himself from the chair, Dr. Wyman summoned his courage as he began.

"I am not one to go throwing myself on other people's mercy and good will, but in this case I have no other choice than to beg for your assistance. My brother is all the family I have left and we were supposed too keep an eye out for each other. Two brothers against the 'verse, or so we thought when we were younger. I'm sure some of you can relate to that." Simon looked uncomfortably at River. "We are both just lost souls now, his which is trapped and must be released from its hell before I can ever be at peace. Somehow I know a little part of my irritating little brother is still trapped in that horrible corruption of his body and I can not live with the guilt that it was my fault he was ever in a position for that to happen. I am the one who is supposed to be responsible for him and to take care of him, even in the state he is now. Nobody else would. I can't allow whatever remnant of my brother which may yet be conscious of his actions but is powerless to stop them be held hostage as a Reaver. I can never leave him like that, never. Here I am on my knees before you begging. If you don't help me there is no other ship which can. Refuse me if you like, just if you do, please finish my miserable life off before you ship out. I'm already dead so if you would just make it a formality… Please, I beseech you, help us. My brother and I have no where else to turn." He implored as tears traced channels down his cheeks to gather trembling at his chin.

"Ahh… well at the expense of being exiled and harassed by the entire crew, I have to admit that I at least understand what he seeks. I am the last person to comment on the lengths someone would go to protect a sibling, although I don't know what I would do if I had to face the same choice as Dr. Wyman." Simon said turning to look at River as she looked back somberly at him as well. Kaylee, gazing at Simon with love and admiration, silently leaned over to lend her support to him. Inara stared with disbelief at Simon, Kaylee and River. Looking across the table her eyes landed on Zoe sitting silently by herself. "Zoe, you have to stop this madness, last time we didn't know just how bad it really would be that we were heading into and we lost Wash as a result of that. Who expects us to willingly go back to that hell knowing in entirety just how bad it will be this time? Nobody wants…"

"Inara you have no idea what it is that I want. Reavers stole my husband from me, Reavers stole his brother from him. I think it is time that I even some matters which have gone unsettled between myself and those _wang bao dahn..._"

"Wait, Zoe you actually _want _to take this job? Mal asked with incredulity.

"Yes Sir, that I do. While I would like nothing better than having Wash back, but seeing as that is not an option this is the next best option."

"Oh Zoe, I'm so sorry. I never would have thought…" Inara added softly, quietly fading off. An awkward silence fell only to be punctuated by a gravelly voice,

"Hell, Mal don't worry 'bout me. There's no way I'm gonna go all soft over a coupla salty crocodile tears shed over lost brotherly love. Long as you pay me right up on some other cushy job I ain't one to risk my neck over a lil' bit of fuzzy sappiness. 'specially one with goramm Reavers" Jayne grumbled.

"Speaking of payment, I don't believe I ever gave you my estimated reparations to compensate you and your crew for your invaluable services. Should you decide to take my offer." Dr. Wyman reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew a slip of paper and handed it to Mal.

"I think this would be an entirely fair offer. Mind you that is only the final cash payment, I also would pay for all needed supplies and equipment or weapons you deem necessary to also prepare for the job." Mal looked at the slip and then passed it around the table.

"Nuh-uh, like I said Mal, no goramm ruttin' way. This is Reavers he's talking about. Reavers." Jayne bellowed as Zoe passed the slip to him.

"Whatever the crew's cut is on jobs is I think this would be very satisfactory for everyone" Wyman offered as Jayne, still bellowing began to read the slip.

"No goramm ruttin' way…no gora…wait…10 percent of…7…10…12…wait…now how many zeros?..." He read with a look of intense concentration, then abruptly looked up,

"I'm in."

"Is that how it is gonna be? Mal questioned. "Nobody here has the sense to avoid this deal like the plague?" When nobody answered him he turned to face his crew. Mal was greeted only by the steely eyes of his first mate while the rest refused to answer his glaze of utter confusion, Mal sighed,

"Well Dr. Wyman, looks like you just booked yourself on the deadliest trip with the dumbest crew in the 'verse."

A grin of pure ecstasy broke across the Wyman's face as he stumbled over his own words to thank the Captain and crew.

"Now just be remembering this later when you're bein' skinned alive by your brother. You asked for this and was grateful."

"Oh no Captain Reynolds, whatever happens, this is exactly what I wanted" he cried. In the background Mal heard Jayne lean over and ask Zoe.

"So are we gonna get paid in cash before we leave or after? There's a couple of things in town I'd wanna be seein' to before we leave. Plus unless the crazy Doc's got that cash hidden somewhere deep and recessed on that body of his it's sorta hard to get cash of _that_ amount off of a stiff."


	12. Breakfast, what else?

The Black. Deadly Beauty. Harsh Grace. Isolation. Independence. Silence. Freedom. A place where a person survived, or didn't, based on their own skills and strength. A place where one could be as free and as much of their own person as possible. A place for countless possibilities.

All of those the traits Captain Reynolds admired about The Black and loved about being aboard Serenity. It was during those times just as he would pass from sleep to waking in his cabin that he felt as though there was nowhere he would rather be or doing. He could forget that they we once again sailing towards Miranda with an ex-Alliance researcher whose sanity and attachment to reality was questionable- at best. He could forget they were planning to track down and kill one particular Reaver who most likely would be around Miranda. He could forget Miranda and how it changed everyone and everything.

He could remember Wash and his smart-ass remarks and irrepressible humor as he piloted Serenity. Not as they last saw him skewered on a harpoon with blood pooling around him as he was ripped from his moment of triumph. He could remember him as a leaf on the wind, a Hawaiian shirted leaf on the wind but still a leaf on the wind nevertheless. He could remember everyone they lost over the years, but most vividly he remembered Reverend Book and Wash. Remembered them as though they were never gone…

But always that brief period faded as he was brought back to the reality which consciousness brings as his ship continued onwards towards Miranda with the obsessed Doctor Wyman aboard and everyone preparing as best they could for the impeding chaos. Wondering if they would be next to join Wash and Book.

Always that brief period of peaceful oblivion was too short, and always interrupted by some disturbance such as the thundering of feet and the sound of…

"Goramn it girl, git back here with that right now. You ain't wanna see me riled now girlie…"

Which was only answered by a string of giggles and an increase in the rate of the footsteps, ending in a SLAM and the indignant voices of Simon and Kaylee joining in with demands of their own. Leading to the footsteps increasing not only in number, but volume as well.

_So much for today starting off as a good day_, Mal sighed.

After exiting his quarters and discovering the impromptu interior redecoration which had taken place down the corridors and onward into the kitchen, Mal wondered if it would just be best to hop out of an airlock and discover what lovely colors and patterns he could see before his head went _pop_ as it imploded in the vacuum of the Black rather than face the chaos that waited to great him in the dining area.

Mal never was one to take the fastest or easiest way out so he continued further into the kitchen despite all senses telling him to crawl back down into his cabin and pretend he never left it in the first place.

The distinctive aroma of scorched protein reached his nose and he was amazed at the adhesive properties of burnt protein supplement as it was plastered over nearly every available surface area in the dinning hall. The table was set with the standard plates, glasses and utensils befitting breakfast, although the tabletop layout was askew and in shambles with cups overturned, dripping their caffeine laden beverages onto the table and subsequently the floor as well. There were even several forks stabbed menacingly in the tabletop and chairs as though the assault involved ninjas who had forsaken their traditional shurikens in favor of dreaded artillery known as kitchenware cutlery. Chairs were pulled back and tipped over like their former occupants had engaged in a mass exodus. All except for a lone chair in which sat one individual, calm and composed. Sipping their cup of coffee while sitting peacefully among the wreckage of…of…well, Mal wasn't sure what it was but he was damn sure he was gonna find out.

Striding towards the table, Mal was preparing a scorching verbal retort to demand just what in all the 'verses was going on on _his_ ship when he was interrupted by…

"Morning Captain. Coffee?"

"Zoe? Just what in all the goramm blazes is going on?"

"I am offering you coffee Sir. What does it look like? Chances are you will need it." She replied indicating the pot she was holding in one hand and an overturned cup she had plucked from the table in the other.

"Dammit Zoe, you know full well what I meant. What the hell is all this?" He demanded, sweeping an arm around the carnage which was once the dining hall.

"Breakfast."

"Breakfast?"

"Yes, Breakfast Sir. The most important meal of the day, although I am starting to reconsider that claim. I believe you are familiar with the meal Sir?"

"Yes Zoe, I know what breakfast is and this most certainly does not look like any breakfast I am acquainted with."

A shrug as she took another sip from her mug and leaned over to select a piece of toast from a neighboring table setting.

"You may want to ask River for clarifications seeing as she was the one who prepared breakfast this morning." A slight pause as she took a bite from the toast then indicated down a hallway.

"It appears that she headed down that way. Chances are you can find the rest of the crew to get their versions of this morning's events too, since it sounded like they seemed rather intent on finding River as well."

Looking down the corridor and then back towards Zoe sitting at the table munching on what had been intended as breakfast, Mal was seriously reconsidering his decision to leave his quarters again. Ever. But as Captain he repressed those logical thoughts and started towards the hallway which Zoe indicated as the last known direction of River and the rest of his crew.

Nope, not a good day at all. And he hadn't even a cup of coffee to start the day. Maybe he should have taken Zoe up on her offer but it was too late for that now as he headed in the direction that he heard faint noises emanating from. Nope, not a good start to the day at all.


	13. Knit One, Purl One

After following the rather non-conspicuous trail of disorder down the corridors, Mal eventually reached the floor of the cargo bay and watched in wonder and confusion as Kaylee was frantically pacing the floor beneath the catwalk. Her face was a sea of turmoil torn between surges of anger and fear as she looked above to the catwalk where, on opposite sides of the platform, Jayne and Simon stood.

One shouting and the other pleading, while they blocked any escape off of the platform. All three, dressed in notably less attire than normal. Both Jayne and Simon were sporting boxers, although Simon was marginally more dressed in which he had a single sock partially pulled onto his left foot. Mal had always taken the Doctor as a briefs man but upon closer inspection determined that the teddy bear and hearts boxers he was wearing at the moment looked more like something of Kaylee's than his own, especially considering their size seemed a tad too small for the good Doctor. Although Kaylee had them both bested by wearing a complete set of socks as well as an oversized shirt pulled on hastily. Simon's shirt in fact, Mal noted, but his attention was held by River. Who, at that moment, was dancing along the railing of the catwalk like a circus high wire acrobat between Simon and Jayne with some hideous knitted…thing?...Teapot cozy?.. on her head as she sang some nursery rhyme involving an egg and horses and a king and a wall and…a Calahan full-bore auto locking rifle? Hmm, well that was one he never heard growing up.

"Simon you tell that moon brained sister of yours to get her scrawny lil' ass down here so I can kick it." Jayne growled.

"No River, don't worry, nobody is going to hurt you. We are not mad at you…

"You just speak for yourself Simon, she and I have to have a little girl chat about privacy after she gets down here and stops trying to give us all heart attacks and to break her dang neck." Kaylee shouted from below.

"Yeah Doc, and I have a lil' lesson about personal property she will be just _aching_ to hear." The mercenary chuckled at his wittiness.

"Ok River, so we may be a little annoyed with you but if you would just get down…" Simon soothingly said only to end with a shout and a desperate lunge towards the railing as River pirouetted and dove over the edge, gracefully bounding down the stacks of supply boxes piled on the floor of the cargo bay. Upon finally reaching the floor, she bounced over to Mal and with great aplomb, took off the mystery knitted apparel and plunked it on the Captain's head.

"Morning." She beamed.

Simon finally released the breath he had been holding as he lay draped over the railing with his arms outstretched in a futile attempt to stop his sister's fall. Jayne was already shouting to Mal not the let the moonbrain get away as he descended the stairs and Simon was quickly in pursuit to reach his sister before the enraged mercenary could reach her first.

Mal cautiously took the mysterious knitted object off his head and was examining it just as Jayne and Simon reached him. Simon pulled River away from Jayne as Jayne snatched the object from Mal and began examining it himself for any possible damage sustained during the pursuit.

"Gorammit, look here, she's gone and ruined it I tell yah'. Stretched the whole thing out pulling it over her little pinhead. And look, nearly blew out the seam here. Now how is this supposed to do any good when it is saggin' all over the trigger? No good, that is what. No good. That little sister of yours Doc has some lessons to be learnin' about…"

"Now hold it right there Jayne" Mal said as he stepped in to prevent Jayne from taking on River and Simon in his blinded outrage over the indignity suffered by his knitted…thing.

"Ok, would somebody please tell me what in the goramm 'verse is going on and what is this thing you are so riled over Jayne?" Mal cried, snatching the knitted object from Jayne's hands.

"That." Jayne said seizing back his twice stolen goods, "Is a specially customized gun cover for Vera. Tailored exactly to fit a Callahan full-bore autolock with fully customized hair-trigger and double-cartridge thorough gauge. Hand knitted from a silkcotton blend designed to protect the finish and to maintain the polished of impeccably cleaned components from exposure to debris particles that muss up the workings. Not to mention incredibly stylish." Jayne glanced around with pride as he added with a flourish,

"My Mother made it"

The stunned silence of those gathered around the cargo bay was interrupted by River as she named the "Customized Knitted Gun Cover" for what it truly was…

"He means a gun cozy", she beamed.

"This ain't no crocheted gun cozy girl. This is…"

"Stop. Everyone. Just stop." Mal cried holding his head. A knitted gun cozy. No coffee, his ship in shambles and still no answers.

"Would someone, and I mean you River, start by explaining what happened this morning to lead to the dining area lookin' like it was hit by a bunch of goramm Reavers and you dancing around high above the cargo bay floor with Jayne's…gun cozy, and Simon, Kaylee and Jayne chasing you around with all of them closer to naked than not?"

'Aint a gun cozy" Jayne sulked, as River began to explain how it was simply the logical and natural progression of perfectly normal events which led to the morning occurring just the way it did.

* * *

Random author note: Alright, another screwy chapter added and I am working on one more as well. After that I may have to warn anyone who happens to care that updates will probably get a tad ...sporadic...at best...seeing as my life is once again being stolen my this semester. Meh, anyways hoping you continue to enjoy my chapters and I will see how enthusiastic I will be to write after my head has been reacquainted with a brick wall known as testing and papers. Later and enjoy. Oh yeah, I know this was rather screwy and bizarre, but was it TOO bizarre and unlikely? 


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